


The incident of Derek not stalking Stiles

by MissOrilive



Series: Gay Christmas Oneshots 2014 [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Beacon Hill's Christmas market, Creeper Matt, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, Lonely Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining Derek, Protective Derek, Sweet Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-06
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-28 09:17:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2726981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissOrilive/pseuds/MissOrilive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek is not stalking Stiles. He isn't. It does not concern him, that Stiles is having a date right in front of him. Really, it doesn`t.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The incident of Derek not stalking Stiles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MissManiac](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissManiac/gifts).



> My sweet beta MissManiac fall asleep on me yesterday, therefore part 5 is posted one day too late.  
> I still hope you enjoy it, for I loved writing this. It´s my first Sterek fiction and I almost could not stop writing *laugh*.  
> Further warnings at the end.

No matter what an outsider would say if he could see him right now, Derek was not stalking Stiles - nor his absolutely mediocre date.  
No, Derek only sauntered about the Beacon Hill's Christmas Market at a temperature below zero degrees. Not that the cold mattered to him as a werewolf of course.

Even when he was little and just reached to his mother`s hip, it had been an annual event for the Hale family to go through the decorated streets and visit the many stalls. Although his uncle Peter had mocked him each and every year when Derek had hidden behind his mother when they came across the electronic carousels, he had enjoyed the market. Tightly pressed against his Alpha, the crowd and the tumult had not scared him. And although strong odours often caused problems for the fine noses of werewolves, there was nothing more beautiful in Derek's eyes than the smell of cinnamon, gingerbread and the sweet smell of joy that hung in the air.

Wide-eyed, Derek had marveled at the many sweets and even when his hands had dug into his uncle's hair painfully when he'd spontaneously put him on his shoulders, so he would be able to see over the heads of all the adults, he observed the many foreign families with their happy and excited children passionately. Plus the fact that Peter had always unobtrusively gifted him a gingerbread heart with a sugary wolf on it (or one remarkable year, even a "Best Nephew" had been written on one) at the end of the evening. When Laura had discovered this secret tradition, Derek'd had to collect all the hearts which he had received from Peter to that date and she had taken a picture of him being surrounded by gingerbread hearts. The picture was still tucked away somewhere deep inside his wallet. After the fire, they had not come back to Beacon Hills for several years and when Laura finally had gone back, Peter was already driven by madness and thirst for revenge and it was too late. Derek had not been to the Christmas market since.

Anyway, it was perfectly logical that he now strolled through the streets, it was a family tradition after all, even though his family was not with him anymore. And that he always walked a few metres behind Stiles and his ... the other guy, was pure coincidence.  
The couple in front of him stopped and while Stiles bent over the expanses of a booth, Derek stopped too and almost unconsciously took some hand-knitted socks into his hand, which were offered at the stall in front of which he stood. That his gaze flew to Stiles more oftenly than to the socks in his hands, was just because of the fact that Derek was curious about what Stiles looked at there at the stand. Of course.  
Derek furrowed his dark eyebrows and felt his claws drill into the colorful socks barely noticeably when he saw Stiles' date grabbing the ivory-colored boy's wrist and pulling him to a stall with mulled wine enthusiastically. That Stiles looked back longingly to "his" stall over and over again did not seem to matter to the blond guy.  
In order not to lose the pair in the crowd - no, to get to the next stalls, Derek wanted to throw the socks back onto the display, but when he turned his gaze, an old woman smiled at him warmly. Ah. Derek's mouth twitched and he could not help but give a polite nod to the cute, wrinkled lady. Hastily he dug out his Portmornee and paid for the two pairs of socks. The lady's eyes were almost wet as she thanked him and Derek quickly fled the scene, now owner of two pairs of tacky Christmas socks. Hopefully they wouldn't be rough.

\---

It took two minutes for Stiles to discover Derek at the market, and about as long again to notice that Derek was following him.  
Him and Matt. For the protocol, Matt was definitely not his first choice of a companion. Rather, - Stiles counted mentally - his seventh. First, of course, Stiles had asked Scott if he wanted to spend a bit of annual bro-time at the market with him. He would have had nothing against Allison accompaning them. However, Scott had looked at him with big, sad puppy eyes and then told him timidly, that he had already promised his girlfriend to go with her, as a date. And that hurt. Although Stiles frantically waved and smiled fasely when Scott apologized. His best friend probably heard that he lied because of his heartbeat when he said that it would be okay if they did not go to the market together this year.

Scott had hastily offered that they could go on days afterwards, after all, the market remained open a full weekend. But Stiles had just shaken his head and said that he did not have time. That wasn't actually true. However, his enthusiasm had vanished, and Scott would be much less interested in the stands and everything else the second time around. Guilty, Scott had put a hand on his shoulder and apologized again and immediately Stiles had felt terrible. It was perfectly okay that Scott wanted to share his first Christmas and all its tradition with Allison. That was part of a first love. And just because Stiles had not found anyone for which he was good enough yet, he couldn´t just take out his frustration on his best friend and the sweet Allison.

Stiles quickly changed the topic, and Scott and he played CoH until a text message from Allison claimed his best friend's full attention and he walked out with another hasty apology. Probably to make out with the brunette while her father was gone.

But Stiles had not given up and asked Erica. He had seen her in school, as she sat in Boyd's lap while on a break. His blonde Catwoman. Because of Boyd being there, Stiles invited the couple. But Boyd had avoided his gaze and Erica had grinned at her boyfriend suggestively. Apparently they had won a bet and gotten the control over Derek's loft for a whole night and would exploit that shamelessly.  
"Sorry, Batman." Erica said, planting a kiss on his cheek, which had certainly left a lipstick print. "No problem, Catwoman." Stiles had said as calmly as possible. "Just use protection." He added in typical Stiles fashion, and Erica waved him away.

After those two rejections Stiles had lost his enthusiasm almost completely. For a moment he had toyed with the idea of asking Derek, sweet grumpy incredibly hot Derek, who, after all was apparently to be banished from his loft for the night, but then Stiles talked himself out of it. As if Derek would have nothing better to do than to accompany an awkward and pesky minor to a crowded Christmas market. When Stiles thought about it, he had to admit that would he have been in Derek's situation he probably would not have accepted the inventation, either.

For quite some time Stiles had not known what to do. After all, the quantum of people who could stand him would be exhausted soon. In a fit of desperation he actually asked out Lydia, nevermind that she was sitting right next to Jackson at that time, who had allowed himself to be carried away into a fit of laughter and although Lydia had kicked him with her heel of her boot, she'd still rejected Stiles' offer. At least Stiles was sure that her compassion was honest. But unfortunately, his crush on Lydia had been gone for a while now and therefore this sudden interest of the red-haired beauty was only a small consolation.

Who else could he ask? Isaac? Stiles was still kinda pissed that Isaac had threated his best-bro-forever status with Scott, so no. Danny? Yeah, as if. Everybody liked Danny and Danny was kind to everybody and really sweet, but of course Stiles somehow managed to annoy the most relaxed and openminded person in his whole school.

Three hours before Stiles originally wanted to go to the market, his father had noticed his sour mood. "Well, I just wanted to go to the market, but no one has got time, so..." Stiles said evasively. The sheriff ruffled his hair in solace. "You can accompany me and Melissa if you'd like." He had offered, but Stiles refused. No way he would butt in when Mama McCall and his father finally had agreed to an evening out together. They had both earned it.

Stiles had lain on his bed, after he had excused himself from his father, playing with his cell phone. Maybe he would just ignore the market this year? Even if he had gone with his mother every year when she was still alive and had loved it so much...  
His phone vibrated and Stiles opened the text message:

"Jo Stiles. It's Matt. Heard about u wanting to go to the market. How about it? You & me in 15 minutes?"

Stiles stared at his display. Oh. My. God. Someone wanted to accompany him! Okay, this someone was Matt Daehler and Stiles wasn't to sure if this was a good idea, but still. Excited, Stiles had sent a confirmation and then thrown on his clothes quickly.

And here they were. Him and Matt. Until now, the other boy had shown only polite behavior and operated small talk with Stiles, but Stiles felt that Matt showed little interest in the stands and pretty soon he was dragged to the next stand with mulled wine, although he would rather continue looking at the colourful caps.  
The pressure Matt put on his wrist bordered on painful, and Stiles tried to tug his hand free a few times, but then the blond had only looked at him, clearly annoyed and he'd stopped. Therefore, Stiles was dragged up to the counter, while Matt pushed himself in front of the other people and loudly ordered mulled wine with a shot. Two of them. And leered at Stiles with a grin.

For the first time, Stiles regretted his decision to come here. He looked around and tried to find a friendly or known face in the crowd, but when he came up short, he had no choice but to nervously chew on his lower lip and wait for Matt to let him go, so that he could run for it.  
Meanwhile, Matt got served two cups and Stiles sighed with relief, because now the blonde had to let him go. But his relief didn't last long, because soon, Matt wrapped an arm around his neck and held one of the cups right under his nose. Stiles could smell the alcohol over the spice of the beverage. Of course, he knew everything about that smell, even if his father luckily had stopped trying to drown his stress and frustration in the bottle and had promised Stiles to get himself help soon enough.  
Nevertheless, Stiles felt uncomfortable at the smell since.

"Come on, drink." Matt said, and took a long drink himself. Stiles shook his head. "No, thank you, Matt. But I don't want to." He rejected as clearly as possible. Matt paused and pulled him between two stalls where they had more space and quietness. "Come on, come on, Stiles. I bought it just for you." He tried to guilt Stiles into doing it and tightened his grip around Stiles neck some more. But the boy just shook his head and tried to duck away under Matt's arm. Now Matt furrowed his eyebrows, took another long sip and pressed the cup against Stiles lips. Stiles hissed as the hot porcelain burned his lips and pressed against Matt's arm with more insistence.

"Matt ..." He tried, but Matt just glared at him and leaned closer to his face. His breathing made his nostrils flare and he could see that Matt's pupils almost completely hid his irises. Was Matt high?  
"Stiles, be a good sport and drink the damn cup empty." Matt hissed and threw his own obviously emptied one to the ground where it broke with a quiet crack. Stiles felt his breathing speed up and his heart clenched convulsively over and over again.

"Drink!" Matt grunted again and tipped the cup towards Stiles' face, making a little of the hot liquid spill over his clenched lips. Stiles pressed his eyes close in horror and pain.

"He said no." Suddenly came a deep gravelly voice. Relief spread through Stiles' body in a soothing wave. Derek.  
"S'got nothing to do with you, punk!" Matt grumbled and turned towards the older man. Therefore Stiles finally got the chance and pressed Matt's arm away from himself. He quickly took refuge next to Derek once free. His green-blue-brown-sort-of-like-everything-but-never-quite-the-same-coloured eyes flew to check on Stiles for a moment, before they landed on Matt again, who was angrily trying to draw Stiles back against himself again.  
But it only took a quick grip by Derek and he had twisted the other's arm onto his back and Stiles could see Matt grimacing in pain.

"I think it's best if you go home. Now. Immediately." Warned Derek, but Matt didn't listen and tried to free himself, which only made Derek reinforce the harsh grasp he had on him. "You can´t tell me to do anything." Matt gasped.

Derek leaned close to his ear and Stiles distinctly heard Derek use his alpha voice. "Right. Now." He growled. Matt froze and then tried to untwist even more frantically. Derek loosened his grip and with one last panicked look to the older man, Matt ran away.  
They looked after him until the blonde had disappeared into the crowd.

"So ..." said Stiles and felt himself blush in mortification. If Derek had ever held even a trace of respect for him, it was certainly gone after this debacle. The alpha now probably thought that Stiles needed a babysitter at all times, to prevent him from falling from one bad situation into the next.  
Derek was silent and Stiles didn't dare look at him. While selfconciousness spread inside him almost painfully, he began to rub on his wrist that had previously been in Matt's vice like grip. Oh great, that would bruise. Scott and his father would surely want to know where this came from. Stiles narrowed his eyes as he felt them starting to burn. Why had he not simply stayed at home? It was clear that his place was not here among all those happy people.

As he hastily rubbed his moist eyes, he suddenly felt a gentle touch on his hand and he finally looked up in utter surprise. Derek had reached over for his arm and seemed to examine his wrist. On his face, Stiles discerned anger and concern. He pulled his hand towards himself and unlike Matt, Derek let him.  
"Hey, Sourwolf. It's okay. Everything's great. Thank you for ... you know ... I'd better go now. Didn't want to spoil your evening ... " Stiles muttered brokenly and turned away. Shit, Matt had driven him here, so Stiles would have to walk home.  
A warm hand touched his shoulder and Derek determinedly but gently turned him back towards him.

"What?" Stiles asked cautiously and swallowed hard when he saw Derek's sad eyes. Then the taller man pulled him to his chest and wrapped his arms around Stiles. For a moment, the minor stood motionless, but then he could smell the warm, woody smell of the alpha in his nose and he could feel the heat radiating from the werewolf. He sank into the embrace and pressed his face firmly against Derek's neck. If the other felt the occasional tears wetting his sweatshirt he said nothing, only held onto Stiles more tightly and buried his nose into Stiles hair. For the first time in a long time Stiles felt absolutely secure. Here in the arms of the alpha - his alpha, he thought determinedly – nothing could harm him and gone were all his fears. Stiles felt the adrenaline slowly leaving his bloodstream after the scary situation had passed and shivered intensly. God, he wanted to stay in Derek's arms like this forever.

Derek obviously thought that he was cold, because he wrapped the sides of his open leather jacket firmly around Stiles' upper body, which pushed Stiles even more into the cloud of warmth-Derek-safe-alpha.  
"I'm sorry that you had a shitty evening." The taller werewolf muttered against Stiles' hair.  
"Not your fault, sourwolf." Stiles mumbled against the other`s collarbone. "No, I should have helped you sooner, when I saw that you didn't feel comfortable around him." Derek countered.  
"So you DID stalk me, you creeper-wolf!" Stiles chuckled and poked a finger into the werewolf's muscular side. "No, I have not." Grumbled Derek, but Stiles could hear a smile in his voice.

That the Alpha apparently worried for and cared about Stiles' welfare made a happy Stiles snuggle closer to him. A slight vibration emerged Derek's chest and Stiles had to chuckle. Derek purred. The older man sighed, but did not stopped the relaxing sound. Instead Stiles felt - to his immense pleasure - that Derek's lips pressed against his cool temple. His heart was beating wildly in his chest and he felt the redness rise into his cheeks again though for an entirely different reason this time.  
He let his hands slide along Derek's back. They had been pushed under the leather jacket by their intimate embrace. Stiles could feel the powerful muscles beneath his fingertips and hummed appreciatively. Encouraged by the arms around him, he let his hands slide down to Derek's ass. But just as he decided to sneak a handful of those firm buttocks, he felt something soft against his hand. Curious, he sought after Derek's jeans pocket, who now stood upright slightly, but still gently kissed along Stiles' hairline. Stiles took hold of the fabric and pushed against Derek's chest a bit so that he could look down and see what he held in his hands. Derek also looked down between their bodies.

Together they stared at one of the cheesy woolen socks. Stiles mouth turned into a grin that kept on widening. He didn't have to see Derek's face to know that he rolled his eyes. "Oh my God ..." Stiles whispered, gleeful. Derek sighed and only pulled Stiles back against his chest, so that those long fingered hands were trapped between their warm bodies.

**Author's Note:**

> At one point Matt tries to force Stiles to drink alcohol. Treat with caution if that isn´t to your liking.
> 
> Thanks for the kudos on the last part.  
> Leave comments if you like, I wanna know what you think about it.  
> You can prompt for the next part. Just take a look at my profile for pairings I can use.


End file.
